“‘But,’ said I to her, ’you will not accuse this lady before the whole company!’

“‘And why not?’

“‘Because that would be wrong.  Leave this matter to me.’

“She would not at first, but I pressed the subject on her consideration, and she agreed at length to remain somewhat behind, while I approached the young lady, who stood near the door, and was just going to leave the ballroom.  I told her in a low voice that in all probability she had made a mistake; that she had perhaps mislaid her own cashmere, and had through carelessness taken the shawl of the Countess de St. Martin.

“I was as polite as I could possibly be in such a communication; but the young lady looked at me unpleasantly for such an impertinent intrusion, and replied that ’since the time the Countess de St. Martin had deafened the ears of every one with the story of her stolen shawl, she had had ample leisure to recognize as her property the cashmere she wore.’  Her mother, who stood a few steps from her, and was conversing with another lady, turned toward her when she heard her daughter speak in so loud a voice.  But the Countess de St. Martin, who had overheard that she ’had deafened the ears of every one with the story of her stolen shawl,’ rushed in to the rescue of her case.

“‘This cashmere belongs to me,’ said she, haughtily—­seizing, at the same time, the shawl with one hand, while the young lady with her fist thrust her back violently.  I saw that in a moment they would come to blows.

“‘It will be easy to end this difficulty,’ said I to the Countess de St. Martin.  ’Madame will be kind enough to tell us where she has purchased this shawl which is so much like yours, and then you will see your mistake, and be satisfied.’

“‘It does not suit me to tell where I got this shawl,’ replied the lady, looking at me contemptuously; ’there is no necessity for my telling you where I purchased it.’

“‘Well, then,’ exclaimed eagerly the Countess de St. Martin, ’you confess, madame, that the shawl really belongs to you?’

“The other answered with a sarcastic smile, and drew the shawl closer to her shoulders.  A few persons, attracted by the strangeness of such a scene, had gathered around us, and seemed to wait for the end of so extraordinary an event.

“The countess continued with a loud voice: 

“’Well, then, madame, since the shawl belongs to you, you can explain to me why the name of Christine, which is my first name, is embroidered in red silk on the small edging.  Madame Junot will be kind enough to look for this name.’

“The young woman became pale as death.  I shall never during my life forget the despairing look which she gave me, as with trembling hand she passed me the shawl, just as her father appeared from a room near the place of the scene.  I took the cashmere with an unsteady hand, and sought reluctantly for the name of Christine, for I trusted she would at least have taken it out; but the deathly paleness of the guilty one told the contrary, and in fact I had no sooner unfolded the shawl, than the name appeared, embroidered at the narrow edging.